


Claret

by sainthound



Series: Camp Camp rarepair hell [3]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, F/F, Harrison's dad's murder is referenced, Murder, Oneshot, as usual Dana is Nurf's mom, trying out the name Clarice for Harrison's mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 06:30:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17054924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainthound/pseuds/sainthound
Summary: Dana Nurfington fears she may have killed more than just an innocent man.





	Claret

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small excerpt from an AU I created, set in 1920s Boston and featuring Dana (Nurf's mom) as a shady business owner and Clarice (Harrison's mom) as her personal assistant and unwitting accomplice. There's a lot more to this AU than just this excerpt, so feel free to ask me questions @houndsofgaffa on tumblr!

Clarice only does her job because she needs the money.

Money won’t fix it. Nothing will fix it, but (out of guilt? Out of some kind of false hope?) Dana still raises her salary and makes sure the catering staff see her eat.

She doesn’t have much of an appetite for anything these days, least of all conversation. For the first few weeks, Dana’s painfully cheerful, “Good morning"s were met with frosty silence. By this point, she’s stopped trying - Clarice comes in, does her job, gets paid, and leaves. And that’s good enough.

“The house still smells like blood.”

Dana glances up too quickly, trying not to let her surprise show on her face. Clarice isn’t looking at her - she’s perched in the window seat like a little bird, her hands bunched in the fabric of her skirt. Being in the same room is unavoidable, more’s the pity, but they’ve both gotten very good at pretending they’re alone.

Clarice wrinkles her nose. “It’s been cleaned from top to bottom, I know. I don’t even know if the smell is real. But it still smells like blood to me,” she says quietly.

Dana waits for a long moment, her hands clenched on the desk. “You know why I did it, Clare?” Clarice’s eyes flicker, just a little, and Dana swallows hard. “He was gonna call the cops. I would’ve been dead meat, and so would you, for that matter.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Clarice’s voice is venomous. “You’re the one who dragged me into this-”

“Clare-”

“-just because you wanted a lapdog to play fetch and roll over for you-”

“That’s not-” Dana sighs, dragging her hand over her face, and struggles to get her temper under control. “That’s not– true.”

Clarice is looking over at her now, leaning forwards with her hand against her cheek. Mildly curious. Almost gentle. “You’re a liar. A thieving, murdering, narcissistic, evil liar.”

“Too right.” Dana props her legs up on the desk, her arms folded tightly. “Scum of the earth and you’re lookin’ at her, baby.”

She waits for a long time without stealing a glance at Clarice. She could’ve left, padded across the carpet like a cat, silently taken her coat and slipped out the door. Dana could be talking to an empty room.

“I talked to him, Clare. I talked to him for a long time. I didn’t want nothing to happen, you hear?” She paused. “Of course, he said a lot about me. About the company, all that - but then he started on you, and I couldn’t abide that.”

Clarice unfolds her legs. Just a tiny movement, but Dana hears it. “That’s no excuse. You still didn’t have to kill him.” Her voice wobbles slightly, as if she might cry. “You could’ve- waited. Until I got home. I could’ve talked to him-”

“And you think he would’ve listened?” Dana’s voice is rising again, and this time she doesn’t stop it. “You think he would’ve taken to the idea? His wife and his boss– no, his ex-boss?” She laughs bitterly. “No matter how nicely you explained it he would’ve gone batshit. Batstuff.”

Clarice makes a small noise. Dana can’t help but think it might be a hastily smothered, reluctant laugh.

There’s a question, swelling in her throat. It’s risky. It could send Clarice walking out of her office never to return. She quickly dampens her chapped lips.

“So, in the end, you hear, no matter how it worked out- you would’ve had to pick a side.”

She can sense Clarice staring at her, and rushes to amend herself. “What I’m saying is- Clare, I’m… it was selfish of me to pick that side for you. Everything you said is right. You have every right. I’m- sorry.”

“Sorry won’t undo what you did,” Clarice mumbles. Her voice sounds strange. “He was innocent.”

“What I’m trying to ask,” Dana continues, reckless now - this is the longest conversation she’s had with Clarice in months -, “is which side you would’ve chosen. If I hadn’t’ve done it for you.”

Clarice doesn’t speak. She could be mulling it over. She could be contemplating the best way to end Dana’s life - and Dana would let her, she absolutely would. An eye for an eye. A lover for a lover.

She dares a glance up. Clarice has an odd look on her face, tired and resigned. She almost shrugs.

But that would imply not knowing.


End file.
